


Unintentional

by bookfairy_writes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookfairy_writes/pseuds/bookfairy_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock and Irene are involved...unintentional side effects occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"How did this happen?" Sherlock demanded, as the Woman stood before him, nude but for his dressing gown, announcing _pregnancy_ of all things.

She looked amused, and gestured to him on the bed, chest still flushed from exertion.

"I could demonstrate if you like, but I'm not sure you've quite recovered from the last demonstration."

Eyes narrowing, he scowled at her.

"I am aware how intercourse works, Ms. Adler. I meant conception. Gestation."

"Do you need a diagram? I'm sure I can explain with a few simple drawings if that's what--"

"You know precisely what I mean," he hissed. "I haven't always brought contraception with me, but I assumed you were on some kind of tablet for it."

"Assumptions are so unlike you, Sherlock," she said lazily, settling back down onto his bed. "I would have thought you'd gone through my medicine cabinets. I've had you over once or twice."

"That's not the point!"

"What is the point, then?"

"Do you plan on _birthing_ this offspring, or aborting it?"

"Hmmm," her finger stroked her jawline, and for a moment she paused in what was clearly mock-thought. "I thought I'd ask your opinion."

"I very much doubt you'll take it into account."

"True, but I thought I'd offer the information."

"I don't care, but I don't want to raise a child. John is enough work."

She raised a slim eyebrow.

"As though your child would be so _ordinary_."

She slid off the bed and began the process of getting dressed, picking her garments from the floor around the room where they had been tossed in a rush to get to the skin beneath them. Knickers--ruined, damn him. Bra and blouse, relatively unscathed. Trousers...somewhere...

He did not speak as she dressed, merely watched her skin disappear under fabric centimetre by centimetre. She still hadn't said a word to him when her heels were on and her lipstick was reapplied, so he cleared his throat.

She ignored him.

He cleared it again.

She pulled on her coat, checking it for spots before tying the belt at the waist. She considered the window as an exit briefly, and discarded it as she tied up her hair, pinning the ends loosely into place. She was at the door when he spoke.

"What are you going to do about it?" 

He hated asking and hated that he couldn't deduce the answer. She came and went as she pleased, texting him one day and then disappearing for weeks on end. When he saw her next, he could be an expectant father or a man who from that point on always wore a condom...actually he resolved to be the second regardless.

She winked at him as she left.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"


	2. Chapter 2

Admittedly, his son was not the burden he expected. He was kept by a governess some of the time, and spent weeks with his mother or father as they chose. Sherlock insisted that he have playmates if he wished for them, as well as books (mysteries especially) and any scientific equipment he needed. He was delighted when the boy began using his microscope at age three to look at things he found in the garden. 

The boy lived in the country and Sherlock kept his flat in London, occasionally visiting his son and receiving unpredictable visits from the boy's mother. It occurred to him that perhaps parenthood wasn't so terrible when done on the right terms. Though his son was always delighted to see him, he seemed content living with a governess in a little country house, playing in the garden or in the nearby woods, riding his tricycle along the path in front of the house, and soaking up knowledge like a sponge.

His mother was relatively unchanged. Except for asking if he'd seen their son lately, their trysts in hotel rooms or their flats or little games they played with the people all around remained as they always had been. Brief, engaging, and satisfying the needs they had to see the other. 

It was more surprising and frustrating by far when she appeared after six months of only texts and the occasional sultry phone call, asking if he had been to see his son recently. 

No, it wasn't her absence that was startling, but the change he saw upon her return. Her body was softer, more rounded, and a bit more tired. She wore less form-fitting clothing and despite the impeccable attention to detail in her appearance, he noted that beneath the perfume she smelled faintly of milk. 

"Was this one mine as well?" he asked her in French, strolling through the garden of a rather wealthy baron that neither of them knew. 

Her flinch was barely noticeable, but he detected it even with the way her nails dug into his arm as she smiled at him. He did not pull away from the pain and she smiled wider, accepting the challenge to make him waver in his guard as she had in hers.

"She looks much more like you than he does."

"She?"

"A bit squashed and grouchy looking, but I think it adds to the resemblance."

He resisted scowling at her, even as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke into his face. 

"The next time you go to visit, might want to bring a few changes of clothes. She's a great deal messier than he was as well."

Jerking his hand back, Sherlock did scowl this time, brushing hot ask from his knuckles where her cigarette had tapped them. 

"Any other surprises while I'm there?"

"Nothing there, no."

He glanced over her and nodded to himself, pulling the cigarette from her fingers to take a drag.

"Engagement not worked out?"

Shrugging, she took the cigarette back.

"It wasn't a long-term plan."

"Any new ones in the works?"

"You tell me."

He did not look at her again, only flickered through the information he'd already gathered.

"Did you choose to have them out or was it medically necessary?"

"Bit of both."

"No more unexpected offspring then. Can't say I'm disappointed."

"Fear not, I'll be sure to bring other surprises in the future."

He smirked, taking a last drag before stubbing the cigarette out on the face of a stone cherub watching over the courtyard. 

"Of that, Ms. Adler, I have no doubt."


End file.
